Heavenly

Detail from “Sunset”

Paintings by Shirley Deane/Midyett

By Vic Midyett
[c. 1952–2/11/2022]

[Published originally in the “Tuesday Voice” column on May 5, 2015.]

Shirley has completed two new paintings, both commissioned.

Highways and Byways: Poinciana

By Maik Strosahl

A couple of months ago I stumbled on Vic Midyett’s December 2016 posts, “Thunder Down Under: Four little paintings for Christmas,” which featured art works his wife, Shirley Deane/Midyett, had done for Christmas gifts. I really liked her 5" x 7" painting of a Poinciana (#4), 12/29/2016, but didn’t know much about it.

In Memoriam: Victor L. Midyett

Missionary kid, 

storyteller, 
man of all trades

By Moristotle

Our beloved columnist Vic Midyett passed away this morning. He had recently been conversing with me and a couple of others about some differences between dogs and cats. His last email, on Wednesday, said:

Y’all know the difference between dogs and cats, right?
    The dog says, “You house me, you feed me, you love me: you must be God.”
    The cat says, “You house me, you feed me, you love me: I must be God.”

So typically to the point!
    I was told the news of Vic’s death in a reply to that email thread by his widow, fellow columnist Shirley Deane/Midyett.

Life Goes On

By Victor L. Midyett

The temperature this morning is the coldest it has been to date this autumn at 33˚F, just one degree above freezing for my Aussie friends.
    The grass is covered in a white sheet of frost, but thankfully there is no wind or even a breeze to speak of. The best part is there are no clouds and the sun is beaming brightly.

Simple Kindness, or a Slam?

By Victor L. Midyett

Is it the social caste system or simple human kindness that has endured?
    I remember one day in Bangalore, Southern India, I was riding my bike down a long, gradual hill while a rickshaw man was struggling to peddle his rickshaw up the hill with two adults in it. One of his thongs (flip flops) fell off. I came to a screeching halt, picked it up, and started back towards him with it in my outstretched hand.
    He came unglued and started yelling at me to put it down. I had touched his dirty thong, and even though I was a boy, I was white and way above his standing in the social caste system. Because others on the road witnessed this, I had – in his mind – drilled his social standing home and made it worse by touching his “dirty” property and social unworthiness.

Highways and Byways: The Noisy Outback

By Maik Strosahl

I love sounds. Yes, in music, nature but especially in poetry. I used to experiment a lot with onomatopoeia, but have not for a long time.
    I was reading a piece by Vic Midyett detailing an event that took place while he lived in Australia. Our leader put the article under the heading “Thunder Down Under,” a series that I as a newer member was not familiar with. I took a quick look through the archive articles and came across a painting of a Kookaburra done by Vic’s wife Shirley Deane/Midyett.

Thunder Down Under: Payback

By Vic Midyett

Here’s another story from Down Under. The events recounted occurred while I worked for the state airlines in Tom Price, Western Australia. Rarely have things worked out so well.


Our town of Tom Price hosted the annual dart-throwing competition for the region. The event is always held, like most things in Australia, at the pub. About 20 men from another town won the competition and celebrated heavily, partaking far too much of the amber liquid.
    It came time for them to be given a ride to the airport to fly home. It was my job to get them to the airport on time, so that our “flight on schedule” record would remain above average.

Missionary Kid: Majestic Mt. Everest

By Vic Midyett

Recently someone sent me a group of pictures of which one was of the highest mountain in the world, Mt. Everest. It reminded me of my semi-personal experience with its magnificence – a memory from when I was 6 or 7 years old that I have never written about.
    I was born and lived in the State of Assam, India, as it was called then. It is now Bangladesh. We had no electricity or running water. Water came from a well that was brought into our home in buckets. We did, however, have a refrigerator, which ran on kerosene. With no electricity we didn’t even have a fan.

The Tree

By Victor L. Midyett

[I first heard or read this story many years ago and have no recollection of who originated it. I may have even heard it from a pastor in a sermon. I don’t know. All I recalled was the skeleton of the story and I thought the man in the story’s procedure is a good one for anyone to adopt. This telling of the story is my own.]

I knew a man who had a nerve wracking, stress-filled job, but once he went through the front door of his home to greet his wife and kids, he delivered and was enveloped in smiles and exuberant love.

Dreams of day and night

Photo by Vic Midyett

By Moristotle

The first is a dream of night, real as real:
    Siegfried has returned from having left us,
    from being gone away,
    his nubby hair stiff in short sprigs
    because it is weeks past his last grooming.
    It feels so real on my imagined finger tips,
    stroking him as he sleeps on top of our covers,
    himself as real as a character in a drama,
    as real as the person he had been for us:
    daily, nightly, always, forever.

Surviving on Little

Learning Faith and Love in a Box of Sunshine

By Victor L. Midyett

Recently Shirley made the comment to me that, “We know how to survive on little.” I got to thinking about that and realized that it was mostly my missionary upbringing [see “Missionary Kid” stories] that taught me how to survive on little.

More Than Enough

Detail from the collage

A collage of covers

By Moristotle

Vic Midyett emailed me on Wednesday afternoon this week that his and Shirley’s package to me had just been delivered at my front door, right on UPS’s schedule. The email arrived almost before we heard the deliveryman ring our doorbell. His big box contained a stretched canvas on which Shirley had painted a modified collage of book covers^* from Moristotle & Co.’s Book Authors’ Corner.

Two Is Enough: Motel repair

Return to “Housing is for the birds”

By Vic Midyett

About the middle of June, I found that one of my metal purple martin motels had been damaged by strong winds. It was one of two that I obtained from an old lady now deceased. I am guessing that both motels are well over 40 years old, and each has bits missing. The one that was damaged seemed to have been constructed of second-hand aluminum. Its bottom floor had slipped down the pole about 3 feet. I got my tall stepladder and tools to fix it back up.

Unresolved Childhood Voices

Drawing by
Shirley Deane/Midyett

A case study

By Victor L. Midyett

Breakdowns in an interaction, communication, or negotiation can break down for reasons having nothing to do with “here and now.” A salesman walks into the sales manager’s office with a business problem to discuss.
    The sales person begins by explaining the problem in his normal speaking voice while the manager listens. As they to and fro about different aspects of the problem, the salesman becomes frustrated and, wishing to avoid speaking louder, unknowingly raises only the pitch of his voice to try to get his point across.

Two Is Enough: Housing is for the birds

A photo I pulled off the net

By Vic Midyett

I love having birds around! We have finches and tits. And I think starlings. Saw a white pigeon even. Before we left here 13 years ago for Australia, I had around the place six bird houses specifically designed for bluebirds, mounted on posts the height of fence posts, but none of them were still here when we returned.

Two Is Enough: Thanks to Judy

Detail

Two paintings saved

Paintings by Shirley Deane/Midyett

Text by Vic Midyett

Shirley painted these two scenes over 35 years ago. When we went to Australia in 2008, our CPA friend, Judy, wanted to keep them in her house, and thank goodness she did, for otherwise we would have lost both of them. For, like morons, we left our home to rent fully furnished, including other, larger paintings (one about 4' x 5'), all in expensive frames. All gone now.
    Judy is a good friend. She helped us out of a lot of situations while we were in Australia. She has been a life saver. On our return to Tahlequah, she returned the paintings to us so they might once again hang in our home.

Two Is Enough: Life as senior citizens

By Vic Midyett

Fear not, you who are young'ens, for life as a senior citizen can still be hilarious!
    I had planned to get my hair cut on the day the government morons decided to close the barber shops. My hair had gotten a lot longer than I like and was batting my forehead.

Six Years Ago Today: Missionary Kid

Raja

By Vic Midyett

[Editor’s Note: This Missionary Kid story originally appeared on May 6, 2014. The author was reminded of his story about Raja when he learned from a cousin in India of a story about Dr. Kushal Konwar Sarma titled “32 Years Without a Weekend Off: This Elephant Doctor Treats 700+ Jumbos Every Year!” by Jovita Aranha. Make your day by reading both Vic’s and Ms. Aranha’s stories.]

I was about six years old when we got Raja, a half-grown elephant. He was about the same height as Dad. We didn’t have him long, because his appetite was bigger than Dad’s wallet. For several weeks though, I enjoyed his company immensely. I have no picture of Raja, so this one will have to do; Raja was about the size of the smallest of the three elephants.

Two Is Enough

And so are these two funnies

By Vic Midyett

Ol’ Zeb, the fish-catchin’est old fart that ever was, always caught his dinner of fish. By and by I came across Ol’ Zeb and asked him how that came to be. How did he always catch enough fish for dinner?

Two Is Enough: A painting for a friend in Australia

Detail of “Benny”

A dog named Benny

Painting by Shirley Deane/Midyett

Text by Vic Midyett

When Shirley visited Australia last year, she stayed for a few days with her friend Dr. Adele Thomas and Adele’s husband Ely Lazar, a chiropractor, some of whose “Lifestyle Tips for Over 50s” columns on their “Passionate Retirees” website have been republished on Moristotle & Co.